


Shoot Your Shot

by allmilhouse



Category: Barry (TV 2018)
Genre: First Time, Kissing, M/M, PWP without Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-10 00:35:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18927706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmilhouse/pseuds/allmilhouse
Summary: Cristobal likes Hank’s volleyball game. Hank likes a little more than that





	Shoot Your Shot

“Hey Bullet! Great spike!” 

“Atta boy, boss!”

“Fuck yeah!”

Hank headed back into the stash house, the fading cheers from his volleyball team following him down the hallway. They had won but all he was able to focus on was the smile Cristobal gave him as they shook hands after the game. Bright and open, it stirred something deep in Hank’s chest, something he’d been trying to ignore. 

He got into the shower, hoping it would clear his mind as well. He took a deep breath to compose himself, letting the water run down his back. Looking up to splash his face, he counted to five and waited to see if his heartbeat would return to normal. He sighed. 

He switched off the water, and reached for his fluffiest towel. Staring down his reflection in the mirror, he tried to look confident, the way Cristobal did. His cheery, dopey face looked back, and he frowned. “Oh Hank, you are in over your head.” 

He was about to reach for a face mask when a knock at the door made him jump. 

“One sec!”

Wrapping the towel around his waist, he took one last look in the mirror. His face was red from the hot water, he told himself, and nothing else. 

Another knock, slightly more impatient this time. 

“Hold your horses Akhmal, I’m coming!”

He opened the door to Cristobal standing there, looking a little sheepish. “Hey, Hank. Sorry to bother you-“

“No man, it’s cool. Come on in,” he stepped back, allowing Cristobal into his bedroom. _His bedroom!_

The Bolivian looked around, appraising the décor. “I like the color scheme! Very warm and inviting.”

Hank smiled. “Thanks. I took one of those online tests- apparently I’m an autumn.” 

They nodded awkwardly, silence overtaking them. Hank watched Cristobal, who continued to survey the room, apparently in no hurry to explain his visit. He was still shirtless and in shorts, clearly hadn’t changed yet, and Hank struggled not to stare. 

“It was a good game today, the volleyball,” Hank tried again. “I like how the guys can come together on group activities. Love the synergy!”

“Yeah, it’s wonderful team building,” Cristobal agreed. “Actually that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. You played really well today.”

Hank shrugged the compliment off. “Lucky shot, that was all.”

Cristobal shook his head. “No, you’re really something special.” He took a step forward, looking hesitant. “I wanted to tell you how good you looked out there, but I wasn’t sure how.”

Hank stared at him breathlessly. “Really?” 

Cristobal looked resolved, but slightly embarrassed, pink rising in his cheeks. “Yes. Sorry for the too honest feedback, but I very much enjoyed watching you play today. Sorry, I should go-“

“No, no no no no,” Hank interrupted, reaching out to stop Cristobal from leaving. “You’re like, some shirtless fucking statue of handsomeness. I should be complimenting you.”

Cristobal looked down at Hank’s hand on his bare chest. Hank could feel the racing heartbeat beneath his tattooed fingers. A beat, and then Cristobal looked back up at him, and that was all it took. 

Their lips crashed together as Cristobal’s hands clung to Hank’s shoulders. Chest to chest, Hank felt the cold bite of Cristobal’s necklace against the hard, intense heat of his body. He dumbly moved his hands, from Cristobal’s arms to his back, while Cristobal kissed his neck, murmuring something in Spanish, his moustache tickling Hank’s ear. 

Reaching lower, Hank’s hands found Cristobal’s hips, and he started massaging little circles with his thumbs. Cristobal moaned, a deep, needy sound that had Hank wishing he was still wearing his knee pads. Instead he gently maneuvered the shorter man towards the bed. 

They broke apart while Cristobal kicked off his shoes, and Hank took a minute to appreciate him. The way his muscles were defined just enough to make him look fit, without making him look like a heavy. The way his hair was mussed, either from the sports or the makeout session Hank didn’t know, but it looked perfect, a few strands standing carelessly askew. Cristobal smirked at him, but Hank was too aroused to pretend to look ashamed at being caught. 

Without exchanging a word, they knew exactly what to do. Cristobal dropped Hank’s towel with a flourish, and Hank reached for Cristobal’s waistband, tugging down his shorts as he pulled Cristobal with him down onto the bed. 

“Oh Hank,” he sighed fondly, as Hank cupped the back of his head. “This is nice.” The late afternoon sun illuminated his already beautiful face and Hank gasped. Cristobal laughed, and Hank joined in, a little delirious. 

The exhaustion and stress of the day were catching up to Hank, and he had just barely enough energy to pull Cristobal back down to him, kissing him lazily. Clinging together, from shoulder to knee, Cristobal groaned at the contact. Hank rolled his hips experimentally, and was rewarded with another deep groan. He rocked again, and Cristobal bit down on his shoulder, to keep from making too much noise. 

Holding Hank close, he rolled them carefully, leaving Hank on top, looking down at him in awe. He leaned in, placing a hand at the back of Hank’s neck. They shared a small, fond look, before Hank kissed him again. Cristobal kissed the way he worked- efficient, energetic, determined without being pushy. He met Hank on equal ground, and they complimented one another. True partners in every sense, they forged a deep connection, every touch eliciting a more ecstasy, every knowing smile reaching a part of Hank he thought had been closed off. 

They rested afterwards, tired but happy, in the fading sunlight. Cristobal looked at Hank curiously. “You know what we need?” he asked, breaking a rare silence between them. 

“A framed picture of us together for the conference room?”

Cristobal chuckled. “No. Well, yes. I was thinking dinner first, but-“

“No, no, that’s good too,” Hank interrupted, the way he always did when he caught up to Cristobal’s wavelength. “Something off of Postmates ok? Let me find my phone.” He patted around the top of the nightstand, knocking over a stack of self-help books, as Cristobal deftly reached over him. 

With a wink and a smile, Cristobal handed it over. “Sounds good, partner.”

**Author's Note:**

> this fought me every step of the way, there’s a random POV switch 2/3rds through I couldn’t fix, and I have like six NoBarry stories I’m ignoring to do this instead but dammit! The finale got to me you guys


End file.
